


The Eye of The Beholder

by cattacodinosaur



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Character, M/M, Sweet, sculptor rhett, sort of fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 02:25:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9153508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cattacodinosaur/pseuds/cattacodinosaur
Summary: Link is far too concerned with what everybody else thinks. Rhett is a visually impaired artist ready to show Link that it is what is on the inside that really matters.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mythicalea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythicalea/gifts).



> A fic for my dear friend mythicalea. She requested a sculptor!rhett fic after GMM/GMMore #1029.

* * *

* * *

    "Come on, Link! I don't want to be late! We told Nick that we'd meet up with him and his wife for dinner before the gallery opened at 8!" Link looked at his impatient companion. Stevie was several years younger than him, with creamy pale skin and strawberry blonde hair that fell in long strands around her face. Link was always telling her it was a shame to hide such a pretty face, that all the girls in Los Angeles would be beating down her door if only they could see into her soulful blue eyes. She was often telling Link that beauty was only skin deep. ' She's gotta like me for what's inside. Not for my face.' Link considered her to be his closest friend. They met several years prior while both interning for a small production company. Stevie swiftly moved up into a lucrative producer position, while Link found himself much more comfortable in the wardrobe and makeup department- where he quickly became head of said department. For Link, looks were everything. He meticulously styled not only himself, but each actor that came through his studio. _'This is Los Angeles, darling. You're seen first and if people don't like what they see, then we're all out of a job.'_

    Link often over-exaggerated his flamboyant side when at work. People wanted that sassy, no-nonsense stylist and he learned quickly to give the people what they wanted. In reality, he was quite shy and a homebody. He was content to curl up on his couch with a glass of whiskey, a good book and his miniature dachshund named Jade. He often joked that owning such a compact dog was the one gay stereotype he actually had. When he was alone, or with his closest friends, he never called anyone "darling", never said the word fabulous and rarely agreed to go out dancing. However, once he was surrounded by coworkers, people in 'The Biz', people who expected a certain personality; he suddenly became this caricature of himself. He became "Gay Link", a person he really didn't enjoy being.

    "Did you hear me, Link? We gotta go!" Stevie's usual sweet voice was tinged with frustration. Link took one last look at himself in the full size mirror in his tidy bedroom and sighed. He wore dark maroon pants that were tight on his thin legs. His large feet sported pointed brown leather oxfords. He adjusted the dark bow-tie that accented the dark, short sleeved shirt he wore buttoned up to the collar. His outfit looked 'on point' as the kids were saying these days. He ran his hand over the light stubble on his jaw, considering a quick shave. It was too late, he decided, hoping that people wouldn't think he looked sloppy. His dark hair was expertly styled in a soft swoop that grazed the top of his right ear. He adjusted his large framed glasses that magnified his ocean blue eyes with his thumb and index finger before responding to Stevie's exasperated huffs.

    "I hear ya. Do I look okay? I can change and meet y'all at the restaurant." He accidentally let his Southern side slip out. He didn't like to let it show. He didn't like people knowing things about him, letting them in. People often assumed that just because he was from the south, he was a hillbilly. When they found out he was gay and from the south, they assumed he was full of repression and self-loathing. He was far from it, having come out at an early age to an accepting family. There were all these expectations that he was supposed to fill just because he preferred kissing big, hairy dudes. He was expected to be catty and campy. Everyone assumed he knew all about interior design and which clubs in West Hollywood were the best for a quick hookup and a hit of Molly.

    "You care too much about what other people think. Let's go, the Uber is waiting." Stevie ushered him out the door and to the idling Prius. She was right, he thought to himself. But just because she right didn't mean he could just stop caring. The thoughts and intentions of complete strangers kept his anxiety at peak levels and made it quite difficult to manage his day to day life. He was always stressed out, or nervous, or scared shitless about something and Stevie often tried her best to calm him down.

    "This isn't a good idea. I should just stay in. I've got a lot of work to catch up on and..." He turned on his heels in an attempt to get out of going out.

    "I don't think so, Neal." She used his last name. She meant business. She grabbed him by his bare wrist and pushed him headfirst into the roomy hybrid car.

    "I think I left the stove on," Link declared as he fumbled with the latch on the door.

    "You've never cooked a day in your life. Come on! It'll be fun! Besides, you know I've been dying to see this exhibit." The exhibit was showcasing several local artists who were, as the news brief put it, 'differently abled'. Stevie loved art, Link knew this. She often brought him along to the various art museums throughout the city on their days off.

    He sighed in resignation and buckled in, checking his reflection in the window as they pulled away. "I should have shaved."

* * *

* * *

  
    The meal had been delicious and far too expensive for Link's frugal nature. He always enjoyed spending time with Nick and his wife, although it was rare to get them both together at the same time now that they had a family to care for. But just because it was a special occasion, it didn't stop Link from scouring the menu for the cheapest entree he could find. The four of them decided to walk the remaining six blocks to the gallery. Link fell back as the other three began the journey down the street. He loved this time of day. The sun was setting and a cool breeze weaved around the tall buildings and through the statuesque palm trees to tickle his cheeks. He loved L.A., he really did. He loved the warm sun, the sounds, the hustle and bustle. He loved looking at all the beautiful people pass by. He loved that this place was so accepting of his choices, both in his personal life and in his career. He loved L.A., even though everything about it heightened his anxiety levels daily.

    He caught up to the others just as they were entering the brightly lit building. It was an old warehouse that had been remodeled. The designers had left the large pane windows as they had been over fifty years ago, although they did their best to replace the panes that had been shattered by vandals with panes from the same time period. The walls were exposed brick, dirty red as is bore through years and years of peeling white paint. Heavy wooden rafters balanced expertly from one wall to the other. Hundreds of Edison bulbs dangled low enough to give off the rustic industrial feel the designers were going for, but high enough to not hit patrons in the head. A cash bar was set up in the corner and Link immediately made a beeline for it.

    "Whiskey, on the rocks." He thanked the girl behind the bar and carried his drink back to where Stevie stood. She was lost in a massive painting of a woman by a pond.

    "This painting was made by a man with no arms. Can you believe it!?" She whispered in awe.

    "He sure is talented." Link agreed, taking a sip of his drink. He let the alcohol burn through his veins as he wandered around. He had to admit, there sure was a lot of amazing art in the building. "And all of this was made by handicapped people?"

    "Heh. We prefer to just be called 'people', but yeah. Everyone here has some form of impairment." A tall man had filled the empty spot beside him and smiled as he spoke, his focus seeming to be on an abstract painting of bright colors and shapes.

    "Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I'm just a little ignorant, huh?" Link nervously sipped at his drink.

    "Just a little." The man looked down at Link and winked.

    "So, is this one yours?" Link asked looking up at the man. He was so tall. He had dirty blonde hair that stood up nearly on end before swooping straight back. His full beard was neatly trimmed and matched his hair in coloring. His eyes were green, almost turquoise. He wore a light blue tee shirt that accented the blue tones of his eyes. Over the shirt, he wore a smart leather jacket. His long legs were covered in tight blue jeans. Suddenly, Link felt overdressed in his oxfords and bow-tie. This stranger was so handsome. _'So why is he lookin' at me?'_

    "What are we looking at?" He turned away from Link and back to the painting.

    "It's a, uh. It's a painting. Says it's called "Summer in San Francisco," he looked back at the tall man, his eyebrow cocked in confusion. Surely the man was messing with him.

    "Nope. Not mine. I do sculpture. Wanna see it?"

    "Sure!" Link nodded, his eyes lighting up.

    "Me too. Wanna help me find it?"

    "You mean you don't know where it is?" Link crossed his arms.

    "No, no. I know where it is. It's on the second floor. I just, I don't know where I am." He looked around.

    "You're a weird one. I should go find my friends..." Link began to walk away.

    "Wait! Come back! I'm not crazy. I promise." The man moved to his left and turned. His face was fraught with confusion. "Where did you go?"

    "I'm right behind you, man. Are you blind?" Link came up behind him and placed his hand tentatively on the other's elbow.

    "Is it obvious? I was hoping it wasn't obvious." The man laughed and introduced a collapsible white cane from his pocket.

    "You're not funny." Link scolded.

    "No, I'm Rhett. Rhett McLaughlin. Semi-famous, semi-professional, completely blind sculptor..." He waited for a response of acknowledgment from the other man. "Wow, this is a blow to my self-esteem. You really don't know who I am? You really didn't know I was blind? What are you doing here? Not to sound full of myself, but I'm the biggest name in this show."

    "I can see that."

    "Is that a sight joke?" Rhett pretended to look offended.

    "Come on. Just show me your piece." Link sighed.

     "Are you hitting on me? I don't usually show my piece to someone without at least knowing their name first." Rhett winked again and brought the tip of his cane to the floor.

    Link smiled crookedly and huffed in bemusement. "My name is Link. And for the record, I am not hitting on you."

    "Well, Link. That's a shame. I really thought this cute guy was flirting with me." He began to walk away, tapping his cane lightly to feel the vibrations as he went. "Are you coming?"

    Link rolled his eyes and followed the man as he made his way through the crowd and up a wide flight of stairs. The man must be messing with him. After all, if he was blind, why was he calling Link cute? Why did he wink at him? He sure didn't act blind.

    "Wow, you're really good at that." Link commented absentmindedly.

    "Good at what?" Rhett stopped at turned to face Link, his lip curled in confusion.

    "Um...good at getting up the stairs. I mean, you're blind..." Link stuttered. _'Damn it, I really am stupid, aren't I?'_

    "I'm blind, man. Not a freakin' quadriplegic. I can go upstairs and downstairs. I'm superhuman, call Marvel." He slapped Link on the shoulder and continued through a group of people as they observed a forged metal sculpture. "This is it, over here." He motioned to a life-size bust of a human face.

    "Hey! That's Stevie!" Link smiled and leaned in for a closer look. The bust had been painstakingly molded and smoothed out to resemble a perfect mirror image of his best friend done in clay that had hardened into an earthy gray color. Rhett had managed to sculpt every hair with exquisite detail as it flowed down past the shoulders. Her trademark wide-brimmed hat was molded perfectly on the top of her head and her lips parted slightly beneath her long, dainty nose.

    "You know Stevie?" Rhett folded his cane back up and slid it back into his pocket.

    "Of course I do! I came here with her tonight. She's my best friend. She didn't tell me she was art." Link continued to stare at the face of his best friend, now full of mystery.

    "She is a work of art, inside and out. Such a beautiful girl and a real pleasure to work with. " Rhett corrected the other man.

    "It's amazing. I can't believe she didn't tell me about all of this." Link rested his hands on the metal rails that protected the people on the second floor from tumbling down to the first floor.

    "You're pretty amazing too, Link." Rhett was beside him now, looking down on him. How could he do that? How could he constantly be looking but never seeing?

    "You don't know that. You don't know me. You can't even see me." Link argued.

    "I don't need to see you. I can feel you." Rhett reached out a hand and lightly touched Link's jawline, right below the ear. Link pulled away, shocked.

    "It was nice to meet you, Mr. McLaughlin. I've gotta go now." Link hurried down the stone stairwell and pushed through the crowd until he was outside. The cool darkness enveloped him as he walked back to his apartment alone.

* * *

* * *

  
    "Link? Where did you disappear to last night?" Stevie barged into his small efficiency apartment with a bag of bagels in one hand and a cup holder with two coffees balanced in the other.

    "Good morning to you, too." He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he shut the door behind her.

    "Rhett told me he met you." She sat down on the faux suede couch and opened the sack of fresh baked heaven.

    "Funny that. You never told me you were going to be on display." Link grabbed a coffee and removed the lid to check the contents.

    "I wanted to surprise you, but you saw it before I could show you. Rhett was concerned when you disappeared and he couldn't find you."

    "I'm sorry. I just got a little...overwhelmed. I should have texted you." He sipped the coffee and hissed at the temperature.

    "You can make it up to me later." She popped a bite of blueberry bagel in her mouth and smiled smugly.

    "How?" Link didn't like this. Whenever she smiled like that, he knew he was in trouble.

    "I told Rhett we'd swing by his studio after breakfast. He wanted to ask you something."

    "What? No. I can't. I look like crap." Link protested.

    "He's blind. He doesn't care what you look like. But maybe, you should shower. You smell a little...off." She sipped her coffee and winked at him.

    Link took a quick shower and was standing naked in front of his closet trying to decide on what to wear. Everything was organized by style and color, meticulously pressed and hung up. His shoes were lined up in much the same fashion on the floor of the closet. He decided on another short sleeve button up shirt with a matching bow tie and blue jeans. He cuffed the jeans and slid on a pair of high top sneakers. He had shaved this time. He smoothed his hand over his face to inspect it. He styled his hair and, deciding it didn't look exactly how he wanted it, he restyled it. Stevie popped her head into the small bedroom to see what he was doing.

    "Link. He doesn't care what you look like. Even if he wasn't blind. Come on."

    "Just a minute, I've just gotta..." He adjusted his tie.

    "Link. You worry too much about what everyone thinks. It's just Rhett. " She pulled him from the mirror and out the door.

    They arrived at a 1970s mini ranch style house out in the suburbs twenty minutes later. Link had not been expecting this. He had expected a lofty art studio with lots of windows and unfinished paintings everywhere. Instead he saw in front of him a trimmed lawn with decorative gnomes scattered about and a two car garage lined with plants of varying sizes. They knocked on the front door and waited a moment. Within the depths of the building, they heard a deep voice call out, "It's open! I'm in the kitchen!" Stevie pushed the yellow door open and led Link back and around the corner to a dated kitchen. Standing at the sink was Rhett, shirtless and scrubbing away at a piece of fabric in his large hands.

    "I spilled my coffee when you guys knocked. It scared me. Could you give me a hand, Stevie?" He turned to her, a bright red spot showed on his chest where the hot coffee seeped through his shirt and scalded his skin. She took the shirt from him and began to blot at the stain with a washcloth.

    "Why don't you and Link head out to the studio? I'll join you in a bit." She waved them off. Rhett nodded in agreement and motioned for Link to follow him. He led him through a door and into the attached garage.

    "Well, this is my studio. I'm not allowed to drive a car anymore so why not put the space to use? Right?" He rubbed the back of his head with a large hand, his pectoral muscles twitching as he did so. Link swallowed hard.

    "Stevie said you wanted to ask me somethin'," Link squeaked. His southern propensity for dropping the 'g' from words getting the best of him.

    "Yeah. I wanted to sculpt you." Rhett sat on an ancient armchair, throwing a long leg over the cushioned arm.

    "Why?" He blurted it out without thinking.

    "Why not? I think you're perfect for the task."

    "I...I'm not...ya know. People are so critical of art. I don't want to be constantly criticized." Link stuttered.

    "Stevie told me you're always concerned about other people's thoughts. Said you wouldn't do this." Rhett stood and walked toward Link, maneuvering around the cluttered room with the ease of a dancer.

    "She's right. I'm not a good choice. I'm sure there are better-looking people who would love to model for you." Link turned and put his hand on the cool doorknob.

    "I want you to see what I see, Link." He placed a large hand on Link's shoulder.

    "But you can't see. That's just it. Art is visual. You've done an amazing job of recreating Stevie's features. I know you're talented, but you don't see. In our fields, people only want what they can first see. Without sight, we're out of work." Link let his head drop in defeat. "People only care about what is on the outside. Even you. It's your job."

    "Link, look around. Look at this bust." He led Link to a bust of a withered old man, most of the hair was gone from his head, but the hair that remained stuck out in wild strands. The bags that were molded under his tired eyes accented the lines on his face. "What do you feel when you look at this piece?"

    "I see an old man." Link responded immediately.

    "I know it is an old man. I asked what you felt, not what you saw." Rhett placed his hand on the small of Link's back, causing Link to gasp.

    "I feel...pain. He's tired. He's lonely."

    "Exactly, Link! Anyone can mush clay around and eventually make a face. I sculpt emotion and I want to sculpt you. I don't need to feel your face to feel what is inside of you. I can feel you already." Rhett clapped his hands together and pushed Link down onto an empty stool.

    "Okay, how do I feel?" Link was skeptical.

    "Well, right now, you're kinda pissy. But when I go deeper...you're hopeful. But the hopeful boy inside you is trapped in layers of self-doubt and discouragement. You love what you do, but it's changed you. People think you are vain, but you aren't. You're incredibly self-conscious. You're nervous...like, all the time. And you want to be loved, but you don't feel like you're good enough. Am I close?"

    "Stevie could have told you all that..." Link countered.

    "She actually never told me about you, believe it or not," Rhett grunted as he heaved a block of clay onto a table nearby.

    "Okay. Fine. You're right. You're so insightful. Is that one of your heightened senses?"

    "What? No. If anything, my sense of smell has gotten better. I like your shampoo, by the way." Rhett winked.

    "Why do you always do that?"

    "Do what?" Rhett rooted through a box for several tools he would need.

    "Wink at me all the time."

    "Because you're cute." He shrugged with nonchalance.

    "You don't know that. I could have two noses or something." Link crossed his arms.

    "Fine. You're right. I don't know if you are cute. My senses could be wrong. I mean, forget about inner beauty. It's all about whether or not you have a cute face." Rhett reached out and touched the center of Link's face, trailing his fingers over the soft skin. "Only one nose." Rhett pretended to sound disappointed. Link's cheeks were hot from the contact and he was glad Rhett could not see just how red he was turning. A large, calloused thumb slid across Link's heart shaped lips and parted them gently. Link swallowed hard as Rhett gasped quietly before clearing his throat. "You have...really nice lips. Heh. Good shape. Soft." He took Link's jaw in both his hands, feeling the smoothness of the freshly shaven skin, the sharp angles of the strong jaw. The hands climbed upward, gently caressing his small ears, flushed with embarrassment. His right hand removed the large plastic frames from his face and grazed his hand over Link's eyes, his palms being tickled by the long lashes. His raked his left hand through Link's soft hair slowly. Link let out a soft moan at the feeling of long, dexterous fingers in his hair. Rhett ran them through again and again, aching to hear that sound once more.  "What color are your eyes, Link?" Rhett asked, his voice almost a whisper.

    "Do you know colors? How long have you been blind?" Link didn't want to sound stupid, but to be fair, he'd never met a blind person before. The idea of trying to describe colors without using color was a difficult task for him.

    "Yeah. I lost my sight at seventeen. I know colors, man." Rhett didn't respond with his usual sarcasm this time.

    "They're blue." Link couldn't think straight. Rhett's hands were trailing down his neck, fondling his Adams Apple and coming to a rest on his bony clavicle.

    "What kind of blue?" Rhett fingered the soft cotton of the bow tie between his thumb and index finger.

    "They are the color of the ocean on a clear blue day when the water reflects both the sky and the sea...or so I've been told." Link supplied, quietly.

    "Beautiful," Rhett whispered, his hands coming back up to touch his face again.

    "Yeah, plenty of people have commented on the color of my eyes," Link closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Rhett's hands on his face felt so good. His hands were warm and he could feel his heart beating through his thumbs.

    "I meant all of you." Rhett dragged his thumb across his lower lip again, his face was now incredibly close to Link's.

    "Hey guys, I...oh. You look a little busy. I'll come back." Stevie stopped, her body partially through the door. Link pulled back from Rhett's touch and toppled off the stool in a clumsy mess of arms and legs.

    "Oh! Link! Are you okay?" Stevie ran to her friend and knelt beside him on the floor. Rhett could only stand idly by, at a loss for words and with a lump in his throat.

    "I'm fine. I'm fine." Link nudged the tall blonde woman off him gently.

    "So, are you gonna let Rhett sculpt you?" She flipped her hair from one shoulder to the other, a habit she did often, but rarely noticed. Rhett bit his lip and crossed his fingers, causing Stevie to giggle.

    "Oh, alright. Fine. He convinced me. When should we start?" Link rubbed the back of his head, sore from where it connected with the hard floor.

    Rhett looked to Stevie, "I was hoping he could start now if you don't mind."

    "I can call an Uber." She suggested, pulling out her phone. Rhett blushed and motioned for Link to sit back down on the stool.

    Stevie's phone chimed, alerting her that her Uber had arrived. She stood on her tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on Rhett's cheek, whispering something in his ear that Link could not hear. She then did the same for Link, bending down and planting a kiss on his lips with a loud smack. "Call me later. Just be yourself, okay?" She disappeared outside and Rhett grunted.

    "What was that noise about?" Link crossed his arms.

    "Sounded like she was kissing you," Rhett grunted again.

    "Jealous?" Link smiled wide.

    "What? Me? Jealous? Of a beautiful girl kissing those lips...those soft...full....lips...nope. Not jealous." Rhett began pushing the clay around as it began to take the shape of Link's head.

    Yet again, Link was thankful that Rhett was blind. He didn't want him to see the blush that spread across his face or the goofy smile he wore. "So, how did you lose your sight? If you don't mind me asking..." Link decided that if he was going to be sitting for a while, he might as well get to know his new friend.

    "I got sick, can you believe it? It was fall of my senior year of high school. I hadn't been feeling too well for a few days but I didn't think anything of it. I remember I was at a special basketball game. The school had invited colleges from all over to scope out talent for the next year and I was a shoe in for a full ride to whatever school I wanted. I was lining up to do a half court shot, when I blacked out. I woke up in the hospital four days later. I had gotten a bacterial infection and it caused my optic nerves to swell and ultimately fail. I had been sick, I mean real sick. I got lucky though. I guess a lot of people get it a lot worse than I did. To this day, the doctors don't know what spared me from losing more than just my sight, but I am so thankful." Rhett used his thumbs to create the strong jawline.

    "So how did you get into sculpture?" Link fidgeted in his seat. He had heard of cases like that, but they were considered incredibly rare.

    "I was angry for a long time after. I spent months in the hospital and lost any hope of playing college basketball. I had to get a tutor and take summer classes, just so I could graduate. I spent the year after graduation never leaving my parent's house. I'd sit in complete darkness, it wasn't like I could see anything anyway, and cry. Or break things. My brother brought home the girl he'd been dating at the time, she was an art student. She told me about how people use art to cope with trauma and that I should try. So I began taking some art classes. I enjoyed art in school, but never considered it to be my calling, ya know? Turns out, I was really good. And I felt better. Everything just kinda snowballed and now here I am, with you." Rhett's fingers were coated in dark brown clay as he smoothed the sides of Link's sculpted nose in place. "Can I? I just need to..." He motioned to Link's face, asking permission to touch him again.

    "Of course." Link smiled as Rhett's fingers danced over his tanned face.

    "You're really gorgeous when you smile," Rhett commented, his fingers finding their way back to Link's lips. "Do you always blush this much?"

    "How can you tell?" Link's eyes danced over Rhett's face, settling on his jade eyes. Everything Link thought he knew about being blind seemed to be a myth. His eyes were so expressive and alive.

    "I can feel your cheeks get hot every time I touch you." Rhett allowed his fingers to move over the apples of Link's cheeks, feeling the broad smile with both hands.

    "Now what do I feel like?" Link's heart was beating fast. Rhett was so close to him, his warm breath smelled like coffee. His skin smelled like soap and clay. Link's hands shook. He wanted to touch Rhett back, but couldn't find the courage to reach out and caress the prickly blonde hairs on his expressive face.

    "You feel scared. And excited. And soft...so soft." He trailed his hands down Link's neck and onto his chest. "Your heart is beating so fast. Are you okay?"  
Was he okay? Link didn't know anymore. It had been so long since he'd let anyone get this close to him; physically and emotionally. Did he want to let Rhett get this close? Closer?

    "I'm better than okay," Link grabbed Rhett's large face in his trembling hands and brought it to his. Their lips connected with a shot of electricity. Link hoped Rhett could feel him, feel everything he was trying to convey at that very moment. He wanted Rhett to know he didn't feel afraid anymore. He wanted Rhett to feel the myriad of emotions that shot through him; feelings of bravery, lust, happiness. He breathlessly pulled away from the bearded man. "Hey Rhett, how do you feel?"

    "I feel...amazing!" He smiled wide before catching the soft, heart shaped lips in his once again. "Absolutely amazing, Link."

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed this! It was a lot of fun to write! Come find me on tumblr (http://cattacodinosaur.tumblr.com/) for a whole lot of nothing. (I just like having friends...)


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